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1 " In America there’s one winning story—no adaptations. TheStory imagines a noble, grand progress where we’re all united.Like truths are as self-evident as the Declaration states.Or like they would be if not for detractors like me, the ranks ofVagabonds existing to point out what’s rotten in America,Insisting her gains come at a cost, reminding her who pays, andNegating wild notions of exceptionalism—adding ugly facts toGod’s-favorite-nation mythology. "
― , Worldly Things
2 " Fog borne of fatigue, fog of early morning, of restless middle-years sleeplessness, fog of cathair in my eye, of dog, dogs, fog of darkness, fogof dreary days under a pseudo-autocracy, funkfog of high crimes and misdemeanors, fog of my dailycompulsion toward work I do not want to do. "
3 " America is loving me to death, loving me to death slowly, and IMainly try not to be disappeared here, knowing she won’t pledgeEven tolerance in return. Dear God, I can’t offer allegiance. "
4 " My grandfather's name was Arthur, and he talked all the time about his arthritis but pronounced it autha-itis, so for monthsI thought it was a condition unique to him, that hehad his own special burden, just like my brotherand me. "
5 " Come to my funeral dressed as you would for an autumn walk in the woods.Arrive on your schedule; I give you permission to be late, even without good cause. If my day arrives when you had other plans, please proceed with them instead. Celebrate me there--keep dancing. "
6 " Here's the deal: structural fatigue eventually causes breakdowns. I am 50 and chaos. My whole body groans. "
7 " Love is history plus desire. Love is dominion. It is supposed to attack you. When you send it out, it stings you back like a slap of cold air. "
8 " I woke to the news you were dead. The what arrived before daylight; the how was agony unfolding as I dreaded my way to dusk. Unfolding against my want not to know (but I already knew, have known since I could know): officers, arrest, Black, man, twenty, video, knee, sir, back, dollar, 8, counterfeit, hands, sorry, 46, mama, please, breathe, please! Were you tired George? I feel tired sometimes.America on my neck--mylungs compressed so muchthey can't expand/contract-- "
9 " justthen a little black ant struggles by alone, alone. Andin that moment, I want us to give ourselves overto industry, carry the weight of the day together, lightenit. I want to be a part of a colony where I feel easywalking around. Cool as the goddamn breeze. WhereI can breathe, build structures sturdier and granderthan this—but the woman crosses to the other sideof the street, and I do what I usually do: retreat intomyself as far as I can, then send out whatever’s left. "
10 " After You Left the weight of your absence became a black hole revolving around my memory of you--itself a black hole. Wavelets wrinkledthe sheer sheet of space and time.Father, the loss of you is a planetorbiting what might have been.I cannot say if the emptiness is a grand celestial body or a vacuumso complete nothing can escape. I knowthese forces have mass and motionthat bends, calls in, ripples fabric--distorts the pace of lightfor a billion years. "
11 " My love, I make this to tell you-- you made me right: everything is amplified. Joy doubles, also pain. The endless work of the river, the haze around it. "